His eyes lock with mine. “You’re the only one who did.”
This man. He knows how to take a hammer to the heart. “That’s not true. But even if it were, it only proves I know what I’m talking about.”
He doesn’t say anything, simply considers what I said. Silence fills the front seat of his car, but it’s not uncomfortable. This silence is almost warm; a familiar sound I missed more than I let on. Moments when I’d close my eyes, his arms around me, as we listened to musicals or stared at the sky.
But it can’t last. Bits of the old Ryder are there, but he made it clear he does not want to remember what we lost. And I can’t forget. I won’t forget. There is a hole in my heart that will always be there.
It hurts that he doesn’t have one in the same way.
“I better go,” I say, and am halfway out the door before he speaks.
“Ava.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m heading to the ranch tomorrow to help my dad and get a few things for the field house. Would you want to come and have a look with me?”
The same familiar warmth wraps around my shoulders. “I’d love to. It’s been a while since I’ve been out there.”
His smile is small, but it’s there. Beautifully reserved and wonderfully Ryder.
“I’ll be here around ten.”
“I’ll be ready by ten thirty, then.”
I close the door, holding tightly to the last laugh he freed before I hurried inside.
Ryder
The breeze whipsAva’s hair around her face. Dry air, red dirt, and a hint of sage fills the car. I can’t remember the last time I was so . . . relaxed.
I keep stealing glances at her. She’s free out here. She’s the girl who wasn’t afraid of anything, not even breaking into the walls of a shy kid who didn’t think much of himself. If I dared let myself, I’d probably admit I just fell in love a little.
Or I’d admit I never fell out of love.
At the next bend, I slow my speed and cut off onto a long gravel road until the farmhouse comes into view.
The driveway needs to be redone. Cracks and missing pieces of cement mar the roundabout in front of the desert pink stucco house. If my dad wasn’t so stubborn, he’d let me cover the expense.
One of these days I’m just going to do it and he’ll need to get over it or pout in the corner. People say I’m a grouch; they’ve never met my dad. We stop in front of the family of clay pots and succulents.
Ava sighs. “I haven’t been here all summer.”
“You still come around?”
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but just because you left me doesn’t mean I left them.” She hurries out of the car, leaving me slashed and bleeding.
My parents never mentioned they still saw Ava. I’m not sure whether it makes me angry or want to kiss the woman that she cares enough to keep my family in her life. I’m all they have. My parents tried to have more kids, but it never took.
Dad told me I was always his, even before he legally adopted me and gave me his last name. But I knew they wanted to fill these six acres with a couple more Huntingtons. I’m gone most of the year. To know they aren’t alone, I don’t know, it eases a sliver of guilt.
Ava stands patiently on the top step of the porch. A thousand memories of her in that exact spot reel through my head. Her vibrant laugh filled this place every day. The wooden porch swing to her left, how many nights were spent there, dreaming big and holding each other close? How many times did we chase my mom’s stupid goat, Lucille, trying to get the escape artist back in her pen?
“Earth to Ryder.” Ava snaps her fingers.
I hurry up the steps and hold the front door open, ushering Ava inside first.
My parents live forty miles outside of Vegas, but still try to make it to as many games as they can. If they aren’t in the stands, they’re watching it on TV.
